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TRIJF FRTRNDSiHrp 

I y J risndshipis a bond 

That binds our kea* '^ttr 

"'I, n.-^iJpji chains of .t.c r 

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COPYRIGHT APPLIED FOH 

BY 

W. W. AYERS 

HlGHGROVE. CAUIFORNIA 



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Pccge One 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 



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CALIFORNIA BY THE SEA 



On the east the grand Sierras 

Rear their snow-caps through the clouds 
On the west the mighty ocean 

Lies beneath its misty shrouds; 
South, the turbid Colorado 

Rushes through its canyons grand ; 
North, the Siskiyou towers skyward. 

Ever guarding this fair land. 



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Land of sunshine and of flowers, 
Land of gold and precious stone, 

Land of history and romance, — 
Constant lure wherever known. 

Here the sandal-footed padres, 
In the dim of long ago. 

Placed the cross on mission towers, 
Which today their hand work show. 



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Here the sturdy "Forty-niners" 

Sought and found the "Golden Fleece," 
Here the golden wheat now ripens 

With a magic like increa.se. 
Here the golden orange glistens 

In its bower of darkest green, 
And the golden poppy nestles 

'Mid the hill-side grassy .sheen. 

Here the rose, in matchless beauty. 

Over fence and trellis climbs. 
And the songs of birds are mingled 
With the sweet-toned mission chimes. 
Land of beauty, love, and gladness. 

How my heart goes out to thee 
Naught can woo me from my sweet-heart,- 

California by the sea. 




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\ Some Dreams of a California Poet 






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GOD REIGNS AND ALL IS WELL 

We hear the rumhle of the guns, 
The tramp of marching feet. 

We see our sons go forth to war, 
Our hearts in anguish beat. 

Yet o'er it all and through it all, 
There rings a sweet-toned bell 

Whose healing message seemed to say, — 
"God reigns and all is well." 

We see the strength and pride of youth 

Go gladly to the fray. 
We see their torn and mangled forms 

Borne from the field away. 
We moan, we cry, we try to pray, — 

Our awful anguish tell, 
And then the Christ we seem to see, — 
God reigns and all is well. 

High in the heavens, over all, 

There shines a brightening star, 
We steer our course by its soft light, 

We hail it from afar, 
But clouds and fogs full oft obscure, 

And false lights throw their spell, — 
We trust our pilot's steady hand. — 

God reigns and all is well. 

Earth's empires fall, their testing time 

Is seen on every hand. 
The mighty structures greed has built 

Are based on shifting sand. 
Shall our.s go down? Is our base false? 

Can seer our fate foretell? 
We fully trust our guiding star. — 

God reigns and all is well. 

Our fathers digged to solid rock. 
They based our structure there 

In justice, liberty, and right. 
They raised a building fair. 

Some false brick may be in the walls. 
The testing time will tell. 

But it will stand a mighty shock, — 
God reijrns and all is well. 




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Pcigle Three , 



Some Dreams of a California Foet 



Our sons now fight on foreign soil. 

In cause of sacred right. 
They fight for us and for our homes 

Against a tyrant's might. 
God strengthen them and strengthen all 

Who fight for hearth to dwell, 
For thou art just, they cannot fail, — 

God reigns and all is well. 

The star shines bright, the day draws near. 

The clouds and fogs have fled, 
A song rings out and tyrants hear 
And flee away in dread. 
A world redeemed by martyr's blood, 

A place where free men dwell, 
Will be our children's heritage, — 

God reigns and all is well. 



^>5^ 




EASTER MORN ON MOUNT RUBIDOUX 

I stood 'mid throngs one Easter morn upon Mount ; 

Rubidoux. 
A solemn hush was over all, and voices murmured low. 
A huge rough cross, with arms outstretched, adorned the 

rugged height ; 
A soft grey mist the valley filled and almost blurred from 

sight. 

Below, as through a veil, the "City Beautiful" was seen. 

And mission chimes came floating up, with notes sweet- 
toned, serene. 

As morn advanced the mists arose, and o'er the lofty 
crest, ^ 

Where San Jacinto's snow-erov^d head against the clouds 
was pressed, 

Aurora of exquisite sheen transformed the eastern sky, — 
!^ The beauty of the sight so thrilled I scarce suppressed 

a cry, — 
Then soon, in maje.sty supreme, the Sun himself appeared. 
And shot his firey darts of light across vast spaces 

cleared. 

The rays illumed the roek-strewn hill and lighted up the 

cross, 
Wliile multitudes beheld in awe, and felt a sacred loss. 
Twasj then a hymn of praise arose upon the sun-bright 

air. 
And sen roe a soul in all that throng hut offered up a 
prayer. 




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Page Four 




N.' 



Some ^Dreams of a California Poet 








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QRANGE BOSSOM TIME 

In this land of fadeless beauty. 

In the farthest distant west, 
Where the sun's last blessing lingers 

Ere he sinks 'neath ocean crest. 
How delightful is the pleasure 

Just to rest in peace sublime. 
And thrice blessed is the privileg'? 

If itt: orange blossom time. 

Here are missions whei-e the padres 

In the dim of long ago. 
Taught and trained the wild, fierce savage 

In the ways of peace to go. 
Here are wondrous fruits and flowers 

And a soft, delicious clime, 
And the choicest of all seasons 

Is the orange blossom time. 

How I love the bright, cool mornings, 

When the dew is on the grass. 
And the birds from leafy bowers 

Carol to me as I pass. 
All the glories of God's Eden 

Seem to blend in perfect rhyme 
When I breathe the dank sweet perfume 

Of the orange blovssom time. 

(Jokl of orange and of poppy, 

Lily fair and giant fern, 
Palm and pepper, ever verdant. 

Wonders new at every tiirn. 
Rose vines decked with glowing blossoms 

To the highest tree-tops climb 
But the greatest of all wonders 

Is the orange blossom time. 

Though I travel far and often 

From this land of pure delight, 
I pray God that I here linger 

When life nears the shades of night, 
And when darkness gathers o'er me 

May I hoar the mission's chime. 
And my soul be wafted heavenward 

In the orange blossom time. 








Page Five 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 



MISS NANCY O'LEARY 

Miss Nancy O'Leary was a maiden lone and dreary, — 

No beau had ever knocked upon her door. 
She lived on tarts and pickels, and she hoarded ail her 

nickels. 
And each day grew thinner than the day before. 

The extent of all her labors was to talk about her 

neighl)<)rs, 
And to scatter all the scandal that she found. 
No lie was so pernicious but to her it seemed delicious 
If she had the chance to spread the news around. 



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If a young man and his lady chanced to walk a pathway 

shady, 
And he slyly stole a kiss as they strayed. 
Nine to one old Nance O'Leary saw the act and true to 

theory 
Quickly from it awful scandal made. 



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< )ne day a sweet-faced lady, with a Red Cross on her 

"shady" 
Rang the bell at Nance's parlor door. 
Old Nance made haste to open, for the one with this 

strange token 
Had not chanced to come her way before. 




This lady with clear vision and divine and holy mission. 
Talked to Nance of all the good that she might do. — 
How she might make clothes for needy, how to work 

with fingers speedy 
To relieve the soldiers' suffering, too. 

Old Nance became excited at the prospect that invited, 

And she worked as never did she work before. 

l-?he forgot her frets and worries, quit her peddling of 

vile stories. 
And her labors made a large and goodly store. 



Her war garden is delightful, she grows plump and far 

less spiteful, 
And. just as sure as you are born, 

I saw .Judge Hastings there asparking. now won't there 
_- be some larking 
When the wedding bells peal sweetly some bright morn"! 










Page Siic 



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Some Dreams of a California Poef 



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AFTER THE WAR, WHAT? 

The hour has struck, and gilded crowns from 

fear-blauched brows are cast. 
The jeweled scepters fall, and titled baubs 

are swept before the fateful blast. 
The age-long myth of "kings divine" is o'er. 
And power to rule by chance of birth may 

be no more. 

But are we free because all this is done? 
What is the boasted freedom we have won? 
In years agone, when one king passed away. 
And while the people mourned beside his 

stricken clay, 
The shout would oft arise and make the 

welkin ring — 
"Our lord, the king, is dead; long live the 

king!'- 
And ere the candles ceased to burn beside 

the dead king's bier, 
A new king reigned, and all men paused his 
mandates then to hear. 

So now men pause amid the surging din of 

falling empires, 

And at once begin to question and anxiously 

complain, — 
•Who now shall be our king? Who now shall 

reign?" 
And selfish men are plotting here and there 
To snatch the people's power, and right by 

might declare. 

Great lords of wealth, who loudly prate of 

sins that Czardom brings, 
And boldly preach Democracy, yet live like 

titled kings, — 
Are seeking to perpetuate their kingdoms and 

renown. 
And pass from father unto son an empire 

without crown. 
What matters it to you and me and all 

hunianity 
[v crown and sceplei be taboo, or called 
"iK'niocracy"? 
Ttiese lordly ones, who, like the swine, will 

wallow in the trough, 
Themselves o'er full, yet bound to keep rho 

weak from food enough, 
Are tyi)es we scarce would like in power 

when czars and kings are done. 
We must awake and fight still more 

'pre freedom's safely won. 






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Some Dreams of a California Poet / 



O, that mankiud might sometime learn God's 
simple, loving plan ! 

He made the earth a paradise and fruitful 
home for man. 

He gave the laws to govern it, so simple and 
so plain, 

A child might know and follow them with 
never fear nor pain. 

Yet, having ears, we have not heard, and hav- 
ing eyes to see. 

We've wandered on in darkness deep, a long 
eternity. 

The Christ endeavored once to bring us back 

into the day. 
We slew Him for His pains, and stumbled 

on our way. 
But yet — still yet — there is a hope, deep in the 

souls of men. 
That we may find a better way and all 

earth's troubles end. 
If we could only understand the love that 

God has shown. 
And. like the Christ, in SERVICE find a 

recompense alone, 
And if, instead of dictum which declares 

that "only fit shall live," 
We change the rule and by our love make 

all men fit to live, 
We then need have no fear of those who 

frame our country's laws. 
For they, like us, will only live to serve 

true freedom's cause 








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CHRISTMAS TIME AT RIVERSIDE, CALIFORNLA 

Let those who will with rapture thrill 

About the cold and snow. — 
Of pleasures great to sleigh and skate 

Where ice-filled blizzards blow. 

Give me a Christmas, balmy, sweet. 

With flower-scent in the air. 
Where birds and bees and orange trees 

Make up a vista fair. 

Where snow-capped mountains tower above 

The warm and fertile plain, — 
Where winter's blast can never cast 

His .searing touch of pain. 

4^hi.s is the place where genii throw 

Their fairy spells about you. 

; If heri's your home desire to roam 

Hhs no more power o'er you. 








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THE NEW BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC 



Our boys go forth to battle 
With a step that's firm and nue, 
And the God of all the nations 

Sees them pass in grand review ; 
They will never falter, never! 

For they mean to see it through, 
Ere they come marching home. 

Chorus : 

Onward, onward, to the battle ! 
Onward, onward. God is leading! 
Onward, onward, never falter. 
For God is marching on. 

They fight with noble allies 

In a cause of sacred right ; 
And the strength of God is with them, 

Giving to them holy might; 
And the curse of Gain is resting 

On the tyrant whom they fight, 
As they go marching on. 

There's a lightning flash of air men 

And a crash of mighty guns, 
And the awful conflict rages 

'Twixt the Christians and the Huns; 
But the hand of God is leading 

And we fear not for our sons, 
As they go marchins: on. 

The victory is certain, 

Though the battle may be long; 
Then we'll welcome home our loved ones 

With a grand triumphal song, 
With a tear for martyred heroes 

And a hand-clasp for the strong. 
When they come mn inching home. 




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Some Dreams of a California Poet 








SPRING, BACK EAST 

From out the sunny meadow, where the green 

First shows the warming touch of Spring 
While yet the air is crisp and cold, 

And to the roof the ice-spears cling, — 
There rings upon the morning air 

A note so joyful, clear and sweet, 
That, to the list'niug ear it seems 

A fairy's trumpet, Spring to greet. 

Our hearts are warmed, though cold the air. 

For Meadow-lark is singing there. 
His coat is warm, his heart is light, 

And over all the sun is bright. 
We know the Frost King's icy grip 

Has lost its power, — his fingers slip, 
And soon his scepter and his crown 

Will deck Queen Spring, of emerald gown. 



THERE SHALL BE PEACE 

Our feet are trembling on the brink of wild and untrod 

ways — 
A new world greets us, and wonders thrill us as we gaze. 
The past is dead, we do not deeply mourn, nor scarce 

repine 
For all the dross of hate, pain and sorrow left behind. 
The Wise Men from far distant lands once more have 
"t^ met ; 

J Led by a guiding star they .seek the Christ where 

war's red sun has set; 
And shall they find Him? Ay, the humble and the simple 

folk 
Have seen Him. mercy bent, on Flanders' fields, and as 

He spoke 

Of new and better things to be in the glad time that is 

to come. 
Their souls with holy rapture thrilled, although their 

lips were dumb. 

The whole world soon shall know and serve Him as 

God's Son 
And learn such truths as none have known since time 
I was first begun. 



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Page Teh 



Some Dreams of a California P 



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OLD MAN WISE 

There is a man in our small town 

To wisdom much inclined, 
And anything he doesn't know 

Is very hard to find. 

I asked him what the weather'd be 

A day or so along, 
He cocked his eye, and looked quite wise, 
And answered quick and strong, — 

"I'm very sure 'twill rain," quoth he. 
Unless the wind should veer, 

And if it does, I'm just as sure 
The weather will be clear." 

I asked him when to plant my "spuds." — 

In light or dark of moon, — 
He said, "I give you sound advice, — 

Don't plant them in the moon." 

With trouble deep I went to him. 

In a crisis of my life, — 
I could not choose 'twixt fat or thin. 

Or light or dark, a wife. 

He pulled his nose and winked his eye, 

And with a sly old .smile 
He said, "My son, if I were you, 

I'd wait a little while. 




For men have very little say 

In matters such as these. 
The girl will manage all of that, 

"Tis her you'll have to please." 

I asked him when the war would eease,- 

He spoke with candor then. 
And said. "The longer time it lasts. 

The quicker it will end." 

I'm sure you'll all agree with me 

That this man is some wise. 
So, if you've questions troubling you, 

Consult him ere he dies. 

The weight of such mentality 

Is great, indeed, to bear, 
And much we fear the strain will cause 

Ere long a vacant chair. 



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Pag Cr Eleven j 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 




CHRISTMAS BELLS 

Hark 1 I hear the sound of bells ! 
In sweet-toned notes their cadence swells 
Till earth and sky are filled with song, 
And heavenly spheres the strains prolong. 

'Tis Christmas time and once again 
There shines a star of hope for men ; 
No cloud now hides it from the view, 
But bright and clear, and strong and true, 

It heralds once again the birth 
Of him who brings sweet peace to earth. 
And peoples, who have ne'er before 
Beheld its light nor learned its lore. 

Give heed to this bright orb above 
Whose light proclaims that "God is love." 
O, Glorious Orb ! O, Beauteous Star ! 
O. Holy Christ, whose virtues are 

So plain to all the world this night,— 
Give comfort in this sad world's plight. 
And let the healing of Thy touch 
Bring strength to souls that need Thee much ! 

Ring, sweet-toned bells ! Sing, angel choir ! 
Earth's dross has burned in war's fierce fire 
And peace, so sweet now seems to be 
That all men seek the Christ to see. 



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FORGET YOL'R TROUBLES 

What's the use o' whinin' when the wind blows cold? 
What's the use o' frettin' cause you're growin' old? 
See that other feller buekin' wind and weather — 
Tough as rawhide leather — 
And grow bold. 

What's the use o' growlin' when the crops is bad? 
What's the use o" swearin' at the luck you've had? 
There's a Belgian family diggin' in quite manly 
While tho Huns spend grandly 
All they had ,, 

Meet each day a-smilin'. — poor or rich, — 
If you run a railroad or jest dig a ditch. 
Keep old age a-humpin' by your lively jumpin'. 
Never get to grumpin' 
At the switch. 

Make the world some brighter while you're here; 
Fill the other feller with your cheer ; 
All your little troubles will be turned to bubbles. 
Filled with rainbow doubles - ' ^.^ 

Bright and clear. -f^' -c-^:" 




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\^ Some Dreams of a California Poet ) 

DON'T FORGET YOUR MOTHER 

There's a light in the window tonight for thee, 
O wandering boy, far out on life's sea. 
A mother is praying this moment for you, 
You must not disgrace her, — to honor be true. 

Though subtle the wiles that Satan has cast, 
'Round tho life of a boy, one anchor holds fast, 
"Tis the rope of Affection, whose strands closely knit, 
Will hold through life's tempests, they cannot break it. 

O boy with a mother, how blest is thy lot 
To know, where e'er wandered, thou'rt never forgot ! 
Be brave and be kindly .and whatever you do. 
Write home to your mother, she's anxious 'bout you. 



OLD "BY-GEORGE" 

"By-George," we called him up and down the old-time 

countryside. 
He was of lordly mien, and full of boastful pride ; 
His voice was resonant and strong. — intended to command, 
He .seemed to think the world should stop and hearken 

his demand. 

He breezed into the store one day where I and other clerks ^^ 
Were selling groceries and shoes, dry-goods, hats, caps " 

and shirts. 
And all the many other things found in a general store 
That caters to the town and farm and meets their wants 

galore. 

He fixed me with his eagle eye, and in his lordly way 
He said, "By-George, my lad, I think I'll buy .some gro- ^ 

ceries today." 'n, 

He forthwith ordered right and left, with no care for the 

cost, — 
A customer to glad the heart, with hope he'll ne'er be , 

lost. 

The list was finally ended, the goods were piled and stacked 
Secure within his wagon they all were safely packed. 
I gently then suggested his pleasure 'bout the bill ; 
He slapped his hip and looked surprised, and said, "By- 4" 

George. Will 
I left my pocket-book at home in my old working suit; ' 
I'll pay this bill some other day. you bet your bottom 

boot." 

And so he went from place to place and bought goods *" 

without pay. — 
■•By-(Teorge, my pocket book's at home." he never failf^d- 

to say. 
IIo iiuide it work for many a moon, and this I know 

is true. 
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/^azit Thirteen 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 



A CHRIST^LIS HOPE 



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Through the travail and pain of the Virgin 
The Christ child was given the world, 
And from Bethlehem's lowly manger 
Was the banner of truth unfurled. 

He taught with wisdom unequaled. 

But the seed fell on hard, barren ground, 

Till He moistened the soil with His life-blood, ".ry 

And His head with sharp thorns had been crown,e^;^ 



So today from the womb of affliction. 
And up from the weltering clay, 
There may come for the hope of the nations 
A brighter and far better day. 




And the many who now are despairing. 
Bowed down by the weight of the yoke 
Of such cruel and despotic systems 
That life and its liberties choke. 



May rise to a much greater freedom, 
To a knowledge of God's love and care. 
To a chance at the sunlight of wisdom. 
And to joy where there has been despair. 






So we come to this sad Christmas season, 
With hearts that still hope for release. 
And we think we can see faintly shining 
The first silver token of peace. 



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God grant that our eyes not deceive us, 
And that clearer may grow that faint ray. 
Until light from the darkness shall lead us 
And war's awful pall shall give way. 

Then chastened, and softened, and humbled, 
May we walk in the path Christ has trod, 
i^.,And the light of His teaching will lead us 
lafely back to our long lost God. 



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Page Fourteen 



Some Dreams of a Caiiforriia Poet 



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A SUMMER NIGHT IN CALIFORNIA 

Softly o'er the landscape stealing, 

Dimming hill and dale, 
Darkling Shadows of the evening 

Spread their cooling veil. 

Purple looms the western mountains 

In the golden air; 
Day and night are gently kissing 

Each the other there. 

Twinkling from the dome of heaven, 
Where no cloud-drift mars, 

Sparkles forth in glowing welcome 
Brightly gleaming stars. 





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From the pond of shimm'ring silver 

Croak of frogs is heard; 
Crickets chirp, and sweetly thrilling. 

Sings the mocking-'bird. 

As a mother's hand of healing 

Does her child empower, 
Nature's fingers gently linger 

On each leaf and flower. 

To her tiny dew-drop dipper 

Every lip is pressed ; 
From her fairy ward-robe locker 

All are freshly dressed. 

Then When day again in splendor 
Glows with sun-bright air, 

All the earth is clothed in beauty. 
Crladsome. bright and fair. 












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THE WEST'S BATTLE CRY 

Freedom for all forever! 

From out the far fluug west. 
The youngest of the nations 

Proclaims this challenge-quest. 

Freedom for all, forever! 

The old world hears the tread 
And thunder of the legions 

New-^born from freedom's bed. 

Freedom for all, forever! 

The kings of the East have pressed 
Their somber lines of battle 

Against the free-born West. 

Freedom for all, forever ! 

The echo of that cry 
Brings answering voices ringing 

From earth, and sea, and sky. 

Freedom for all, forever! 

No power can still this call 
Till tyrant's fetters shatter 

And God reigns over all. 

Freedom for all, forever! 

The open word of God. 
The love of Christ embodied 

Where'er man's feet have trod. 

Freedom for all, forever! 

O glorious battle cry ! 
The magic of its music. 

Praise God, shall never die 

FISHING TIME 

Over the meadow and through the wood. 

All down by the purling stream. 
Where brambles grow and wild flowers blow, 

And bright scaled fishes gleam. 

With whistled lilt and hat a-tilt. 

And fish pole over the shoulder, — 
What cares he if books there l)e. 

And hated axioms moulder? 

For youth is gay, and boys will play 

Without our will or wishing 
And this is sure, the strongest lure 

Is the cry. "Lets go a-fishing." 



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Pag^ Sixteen 



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Some Dreams of a California P^ 






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WHAT IS THE CAUSE 

( Written bjef ore the United States entered the great war 

My boy. and yours, are wanted now, — 

There is a call for men 
To form an army, brave and strong, 

Our nation to defend. 
But let us for a moment pause 

Before we send them out, 
And question, what shall be the cause, 
And what 'tis all about. 

Shall Europe's ghastly trenches drain 

The life-'blood of our sons? 
Shall wars of greed, and quarrels of kings 

Engulf our best loved ones? 
An army for DEFENSE, ah, yes, 

We'll gladly let them go, 
And shed their blood, if needs must be, 

'Gainst any foreign foe. 
But. mark you well, no son of mine 

Shall join your army grand, 
To fight for kings on foreign soil. 

And in an alien land ! 

If "Wall Street's" bloody gold all sinks 
'Neath Europe's crimson flood. 

It will not weigh one jot with me 
Against my son's life-blood. 



O nation mine ! O loved country ! 

Thine honor's dear to me! 
Let not a greedy few destroy 

Thy noble de.stiny ! 
We'll live for thee! We'll die for thee! 

We'll give to thee our sons. 
To lift the flag in victory 

'Gainst Kaiser, King or Huns ; 
But let us keep our honor bright, — 
Be sure our cause is just, — 
Then truly we can say to all, — 

'•In God we put our trust." 





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Pageiye^enteen 



Some Dreams of a California Poet }, 



THE PRESIDENT 

1 A towering form he stands, with presence calm and vision 

clear. 
The storms that dim the light for lesser men ne'er fill 

his heurt with fear. 
He sees the calm beyond the storm, — a peaceful sunlit 

world, — 
Ambition, hate, and selfish greed are from his presence 

hurled. 
He points with that* diviner sight that to the Christ was 

given. 
To that bright day when earth may claim the foretaste 

joys of heaven. •■'i 

The weary war-worn nations, all, lift helpess hands to him, 
God grant no evil power may harm, nor cloud his vision 

dim I 
We are too near his person now to gain a proper view, 
But ages hence his fame will stand secure in virtues true. 
Stand firm America, today behind this leader sent, 
And let each loyal heart exclaim, — "God bless our 

President I" 



A MOTHER'S SORROW 

I knelt alone with my dear one 
Close down by the river side. 

The Pilot stood there a-waiting 
The turn of the outward tide. 

I kissed the brow of my darling, — 
My joy, my pride, my best, — 

In sorrow too deep for sobbing 
I pressed him to my breast. 

O Pilot, why do .vou take him? 
So young, so manly, so strong. 
Take me, O Pilot, I pray thee! 

Thou surely canst take me along? 

P>ut the Pilot sadly beckoned 
And out with the flowing tide 

Drifted the boat with my loved one. 
The Pilot stood close by his side. 

My heart is heavy within me. 
It seems in my breast a stone. 

How can I face a tomorrow, 
When tomorrow will find me alone? 








O God. give balm for my heartache! 

Give solace for infinite pain ! 
Give hope, ,that in Heavens bright morningir- 

I'll find all my lost ones again. - : - - 



i. > 











/*a^<r Eighteen 



-.cg^'^Z^^izi 



^•* t. 




Some Dreams of a California Poet 

PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL 
TO MEN 

Hark ! there's music in the air, 
Thrilling, singing everywhere ! 

Suns and worlds join the refrain. 
Angel's voices blend the strain. 

See! o'er Bethlehem's verdant slope 
Shines a star, — ^the star of hope. 

Shepherds guarding flocks by night, 
See this star of luster bright. 

Clearer now the angels' song 
On the breeze is borne along, — 

"Glory in the highest" ! then, 
"Peace on earth, good will to men." 

Wonder-struck, the shepherd group 
Follow star and angel troupe. 

Till they reach the stable-shed 

Where the Christ child has his bed. 

Then, in holy reverence sweet, 

They give thanks and homage meet, 

For the hope of ages past 
Is fulfilled for them at last. 

So today, O Lord, the same. 
We, the shepherds in thy name. 

Would make pilgrimage once more 
To thy side as oft before. 

Guide us with an heavenly choir, 
Light our way with lustrous star, 

May we in thy presence find 
Joy and peace for soul and mind. 

Should the world this Christmas day 
Look to thee, and pause to pray. 

Angels glad would sing again, — 
"Peace on earth, good will to men." 





:'^ 



Pa^e Nineteen 



W ^ 



Some Dreams of a Cahtornia Poet 






MOTHER'S BIRTHDAY 

Tliere's a touch of win'try clime 

In the hand of Father Time 

As the bells in birthday chime 

Ring again. 

Though his fingers as they play 
Leave their touch of silv'ry gray, 
Still no one. dear heart, can say 

'Tis not best. 

For with every silver tress 
Love and peace its coming bless. 
At thy heart no fear doth pi-ess 

Nor despair. 

For thy life in goodness spent, 
For thy faith and patience blent, 
For thy heart, in trial content 

With thy lot; 



M 



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f^^^^- 




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<*■!•;. - 




Time now brings a sweeter calm, 
And each year like healing balm, 
Like a voice from whisp'ring palm 

Bids thee rest 

O that I when years have flown, 
When my step has falt'ring grown 
When I stand almost alone, 

Like as thou. 

May I have thy faith to shine. 
May good deeds my heart incline. 
May my heart be pure as thine, 

Is my prayer. 



'^--^ 



"^-vC- 





f*ag^ tiVi 







:/'■'-■ 





\ Some Dreams of a California Poet 

CAN WE BE GLAD? 

Can we be glad this Christmas day 
When from our homes have gone away 
So many of the young and gay? 
Can we be glad this Christmas day? 

Can we be glad this Christmas day 
When mothers drop a tear and pray. 
When father's hearts are filled with gray. 
Can we be glad this Christmas day? 

Can we be glad this Christmas day 
When vacant chairs seem in the way, 
And boyish laughter holds no sway? 
Can we be glad this Chi-istmas day? 

Yes. we'll be glad this Christmas day, 
Though hearts be torn with grief, and pray 
Though souls be filled with solemn gray ; 
Though loved ones may be far away, 
Yes, we'll be glad this Christmas day. 

Yes, we'll be glad this Christmas day. 
For joys are not the lights that play 
In sparkling wine and gilded way. 
But plumb the depths of hearts today, — 
Yes. we'll be glad this Christmas day. 

Yes, we'll be glad this Christmas day, 
With joy like mothers' when they lay 
On anguished breast the breathing clay 
Of new-liorn babe, at break of day, — 
Ye.s. we'll be glad this Christmas day. 

Yes. we'll be glad this Christmas day. 
For strong young men to give away. 
For hearts that breathe a patriot's lay. 
For men who fight, while others pray, — 
'es, we'll be glad this Christmas day. 






"*.•{;" 
*>*- 





P(^jt ^Iweffty-one 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 






GOD'S SCHOOL 

To the lover of nature and lover of God 

The earth opens magical arms, — 
She shows him her secrets, and all he beholds 

Is filled with an interest that charms. 

The rose and the leaf, the rock and the clod, 

Each fill him with joy and amaze. 
The birds and the bees and creatures of earth 

Are marvels which call for his praise. 

To the lover of nature and lover of God 
This earth is a wonderful place, 

"Tis a school for advancement, where the diligent may 
Be privileged to look on God's face. 

For God is about us, above and below. 

His love is abroad everywhere, 
And happy the man who seeks for His will, 

And trusts all his life to His care. 



P 



A.' 







A PRAYER FOR PEACE 

(Written July 31, 1914, before the beginning of the 
great world war.) 

All Europe trembles 'neath the tread of marching feet ; 
The clank of sword and spur and din of marshal music 

fill the air ; 
A sad and fearful murmur rises from the troubled earth, 
And heaven seems black to hearts in dire despair. 
What means this awful, grim display of serried ranks in 

untold numbers marshalling now? 
Is God preparing for that day when sinful man before 

His throne must bow? 
O God, thy righteous wrath delay ! 
For this we pray. 

Almost two thousand years have passed 

Since Christ, the lowly Nazarine, walked here upon the 

earth. 
He taught with wisdom unsurpassed 
The laws that give diviner birth to all that human hearts 

aspire, — 
Of love, and truth, and pure desire. 
How poorly we have learned of Thee, 
Thou pierced One of Calvary ! 



M:- 



3^-tri 







Page Tiventy-tivo 



>nn 



Some Dreams of a California Poet 




;v»u^ 



Men slew the Christ, they'd slay Him now, 

With all the light of years to glean, 

For selfishness and man-made creed full strong as they 

were then, are seen. 
And justice, blinded by the glare of golden idols does 

declare 
Against the right of men. 
Shall God, of righteous judgment, still withhold His hand? 

O God, we pray. 

Do Thou delay! Vjl 

Full many men with bursting chests of gold, purchased 
at the price of thousands slain with toil and strife 
unbearable, 

Are seeking now to purchase peace, — 

As though their gold could purchase aught that is de- 
sirable, — 

These long for peace that none may snatch their stolen 
gains away. 

But peace they've never had, and never may. 
O God. in mercy spare us yet ! 
Thy precepts still may we accept ! 




If 'tis Thy will. Almighty God, 

To scourge the earth with fire and sword, 

O grant Thy mercy's quick return. 

And chasten not unto the end of all the world, 

But spare, O spare Thy seed, O God ! 

That chastened, they may quickly learn Thy blest com- 
mand. 

And livin;i then, in love and truth, 

A nobler people may arise and populate the land 

Then will the earth in fulness blow. 

And righteousness to fruitage grow, 
On every hand. 
O God, we pray. 
Hear us this day, 
Through Christ. Amen ! 









Fa^e ^J\0:mfy-three y,, 

Some Dreams ot a California Poet / 



RESURRECTION MORN 

"Come forth :" An angel speaks with gentle, firm command. 
The mighty stone is rolled away as by a magic hand. 
The Christ comes forth, a glorious form, all pain and 

sorrow passed, 
His word proved true, fruition seen for mankind's hope 

at last. 

A miracle I A miracle ! We cry in estacy. 

We marvel much, and scarce believe that it can truly be. 

Why marvel we? Why doubt we thus? on every hand 

we find 
The truth made plain and life renewed in miracles of 

kind. 

An angel speaks to stark bare trees, a million graves 

burst ope. 
And bud and leaf and full-blown flower prove resurrec- 
tion's hope. 
An angel si>ealvs. from l>rown cold sod springs life in 

myriad foi-ms, 
A resurrection miracle wherever God's sun warms. 

An angel speaks, the stone of sin is rolled from many a 

heart. 
In joyful freedom walk we forth with Christ to have a 

part. 
An angel speaks, a young child's cry is for the first time 

heard, 
From out the womb's dark tomb there comes fulfillment 

of Christ's word. 

An angel speaks, and nations heed that ne'er before gave 

ear, 
And great and small, o'er all the world, the joyful message 

hear. 
An angel speaks, the stone of doubt is rolled from mortal 

mind, Z' 

Attd. Resnrrwrion morn has dawned for all of humankind. 




o. 



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Page Twenty-fbur 



-if^ 



^ s^ . 




V Some Dreams of a California Poet 



mM)^ 









'<i»>*y5<» ^ fc^^i ,JL A- ! - 



THE GOLDEN WEDDING 

I thought to sing you a song, dear hearts, — 

To you who have battled so well 
'Mid the stress and strife of long long life 

Ful] fifty years as man and wife, 

Till the evening shadows dwell. 

I thought to sing of the winter of life. 

And the glorious sunset glow. 
But instead I sing of the springtime fair 
Of budding flowers and perfumed air, 

And not of drifting snow. 

For the winter of life to such as thou 
Can never be cold and bleak, 

But the birds will sing and the flowers still cling, 
And the winter time be fair as spring 
Till your peaceful rest ye seek. 

And the golden hours of this golden day 

A golden chain shall make. 
To bind us all, both large and small, 
In bonds of love that cannot fall 

Till heaven's glories wake. 



ALMOND BLOSSOMING TIME AT BANNING, CAL 

Did you ever see the beauty in the sunset's afterglow? 
Or the sparkling, dazzling radiance of a sunrise o'er the 

snow ? 
Both these glorie.s are united in one grand and brilliant 

show, 
Up at Banning, in the springtime, when tlie almond 

orchards blow. 

Wry early in the springtime, ere the wild flower shows 

its head, 
And all other nut and fruit trees are quite stark and 

seem quite dead. 
Then the sturdy almond blossoms with a bright and 

beauteous glow, — 
Glorious Banning I In the springtime, when the almonjl 

orchards blow. 

Old "Jack Frost" seeks to destroy them, but they laugh,, 
him quick to scorn, ■^^ 

And his ice-spears change to dewdrops in the rosy-tinted 
morn. _-^ 

you seek relief from trouble and the fret of care beloV, 
ke a trip right up to Banning while the almond or- 
"cliards blow. 

' .% ' "•-'■ ' ^ 




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Some Dreams of a California Poet ^ 



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OUR HERITAGE 

What is your heritage, my boy, 
Whose laughiug eyes are full of joy, — 
What heritage have you, I pray, 
111 free America today? 

I have a heritage of joy, 
The free life of a healthy boy, 
The chance to study in the schools 
Where poor and rich obey the rules. 

What heritage have you, young man. 
Whose active brain can think and plan, — 
What heritage in this free land 
For your quick brain and active hand? 

I have a heritage of life. 

Free from all caste that deadens strife,- 

The greatest in our land today 

Came from the ranks of common clay. 

What heritage have you, young maid. 
Who lift your head so unafraid, — 
What heritage is yours today 
In this free land for which we pray? 

I have a heritage most true, 
To choose myself what I shall do. 
To wed or not at my desire, 
As free to choose as son or sire. 

What heritage have we today. 
All citizens beneath its sway, — 
What means this land of heart's desire 
To son and maid, to wife and sire? 

It means to us on this glad day 
A chance to sing a freeman's lay, 
A chance to vote, to work, to pray, 
With equal freedom day by day. 

What will we do for this great land 
Whose birth the good God surely planned.— 
What will we do for it today 
To keep it free from tyrant's sway? 

We will defend with all our might. 
>. The freedom that has shone so bright. 

\ "^^^W ™'?- '}!^*i""S' ^^'^Jo fli^se rights defend, 




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Will find America their friend. 






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Puge, SpeAljr-sif 







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AMERICA IS NOW AWAKE 

A rraii5p>-->rt sTink '. A rransport sunk! 

:he flaming lied<ilines siare. 
And fairly shout the staxtting words 

from news-sheets eT»ywliere. 
Full manr an anxioas motiher^ lieait 

is com vridi tliTobbing pain. 
And many a fatba fears tas boy 

win De'er cook bMne again. 

Tile war is here. Our countrr feds 

the stinging touch <tf psin. 
And. rouang: as fira^ dumber, sees 

ber own, her best lored, slain. 
She sleeps no nM»e. too many hours 

hare harried heedless by 
Ere sJie was roused to action 

by her own dear rtiiWren's cry. 

To arms! To arms! The iXirring call 

is heard on erery lumd 
And answering to the sunumms sfsing 

(he manhood of the land. 
While woanen. ever brave, 

with word and actire deed. 
Are quick to toil and serre 

that none may suffer need. 

And now today, from eity. town and rale, 

fnan sea to sea. 
The teeming millions of her free-bora sons 

their duty see. 
And Ul the fate of that proud, hau^ity. 

which dares de^ 
The wrath of roused AmfSiea 

when she hears her cUldrea ay. 

The foe we fight is one to test 

our nation's strongest wilL 
Hi- legions hare been trained for years. 

^ith most satanie ^ill. 
Bur this is true. "Tliriee armed is he. 

who knows his cause Is jiEt.** 
B^ering this, we gird the sword, 

and i^ce in God our trust. 
And ye. whose bodies ea^dy sleep. 

beneath the ocean ware. 
Whose sfHTits. free, need nev» fear 

the serfdom of the slare. — 
Shall lead us oa. and in the battle's 
t fiereest strife 
V- • • - -xiT voices cheerily us. 
. .^ take new Hfe. 



-% : 



^•* 



^-. 



P<^ge. Twe7i(y-seven 



Some Dre 



a Calitornia Foe 



Great victory will suiely crown 

our armies' bold advance. 
And he who sought to rule the world 

v.ili hold a broken lance, 
Thou, lowly, humbled in the dust. 

this truth he'll find, — 
Though great may be the conqueror's name, 

"ris greater to be kind. 

TO HOMER STEPHENSON ON HIS 72nd BIRTHDAY 
>IARCH 27th, 1916 

The sands are swiftly flowing 
Through the hour-glass of life's day. 
Another golden grain has dropi)ed. 
A year has sped away. 

I ike burnished gold, refined by fire, 
Like gems more precious still,' 
The grains are growing scarce above, 
The lower glass to fill. 

Yet would we stay them if we could. 
And should we. if we would? 
A wiser hand than ours shall lead. 
A loving and a good. 

Whiit though the hair may thin in spots, 
And gray the temples grow, 
Thi<ugh "specs" be needed for the eyes. 
And steps less sprightly go, — 



V 




*A~'~*. y^^'t' 





i'ou have a staff that's strong and sure. 
An arm on which to lean, 
A Saviour's voice to say. ""Well done," 
When He shall lift the screen. 



A life well .spent, an honored age, 
A host of friends and kin, — 
What more can mortal heart desire, 
When night-time closes in? 



So may you on this day be glad. 
An'i comrades with you, too, 
AjuI we will hope the gla.ss still holds 
Full inriny a gra,in for you. 



>' 






^agf Tiuenty-eight 



:-^-T«?3^is?s*: 




Some Dreams of a California Poet 





''^^2 



rfv^- '^- 






THE MAN WHO TOILS 

I sing the praise of tlie man who toils, — 
Who labors with physical might, — 

Who wins his bread by the sweat of his brow, 
And is honestly tired at night. 

I saw such a one returned from his work, 

He wore no oppressive coat. 
His brawny arms were bronzed and bare, 

And bare was his rugged throat. 

He sat on the steps of his humble home, 
In his heart there welled a song, 

A cupid form sat astride his neck 
And urged its steed along. 

From out the door sweet odors came 
Which betokened the evening meal. 

And the fragrance of the simple fare 
To hunger made great appeal. 

The bu.sy housewife paused at times 
To glance through the open door, 

At man and babe, so happy there. 
And her love abounded more. 

Can kingly pomp or lordly wealth 

Produce such peace of mind? 
Can idle fop or gilded maid 

Such lasting pleasure find? 

I sing the praise of the man who toils, 
Who wields the hammer and tongs. 

Or drives the plow through the fertile soils. — 
To him the world belongs. 



the happiest life is the humble life, 

life of honest toil, 
diamonds of sweat are brighter by far 
in diamonds from Africa's soil. 






Pag^ 'pvetity-nine , ' \. , ,. , ^J 



Some Dreams ot a California Poet / 



EUREKA 






As the weary western traveler longs to see the "Prom- 
ised Land," 

And his train toils ever upward through the never-ending 
sand 

Suddenly the scenes are shifted, — San Gregonio's gate is 
passed, — 

And the land of "song and story" greets his tired eyes 
at last. 

-Miles on miles of lovely orchards, — almonds, apples, 'cots 

and pears, — 
In their green robes greet his vision, springing up quite 

unawares, 
(rlorious view of mighty mountains, towering, snowcapped, 

in the sky, 
Bring relief to tired eyesight and a soft desire to cry. 




As the train glides swiftly onward, busy little towns are 
passed, — 

Banning, noted for its almonds, Beaumont, with its apples 
classed. 

Gliding then through lovely canyon, with the mountains 
near at hand, 

Wider view finick opens to us. and it seems like fairy- 
land. 




-^T 



^^- , 



Here the famous orange orchards, with their constant 
dark-hued green, 
, Mingled withj^ golden fruitage, make a most impressive 
* scene. 

't^'. Cities now of more pretensions, — Redlands, Colton, Riverside, 
^jj. San "Berdoo." and many others greet us as we swiftly 
ride. 

We are bound for that great center of this southland's 

busy life, — 
"Angel City." or Los Angeles, — mighty in its busy strife. 
With its sea-arms reaching oxitward to San Pedro and 

Long Beach, ' 

It draws trade from land and water and the world's 

great markets reach. 



i^-""'- -^■'" SiK-h a la 



nd as is this southland ne'er was found since 
Kden's time. t 

Tis Ml land to Ijve and die for and inspires this modest' 
rlijrme. 



'^^- 








Page Tfnrty 



■'/<: 




Some Dreams of a California Pot 

"THERE IS NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN" 

— Solomon. 

In days long ago a wise man once said, "There's nothing 

that's new." 
His words I have read, and quite earnestly, too, 
Have pondered and thought of this saying so strange. 
I've sought for its meaning and tried to arrange 
My thoughts in verse form, and this I now give you. 
In fear and in trembling lest it not please you. 
But please you or no, 'tis here for your reading. 
Which I hope you will do, the critics not heeding. 

We deem ourselves great, and our wisdom enhancing; 

We gaze on the past from our height, downward glancing ; 

We preen our bright feathers with pride so unselfish (?) 

(Humility truly is fleeting and elfish). 

We stoutly maintain our age is more famed, 

And wiser than any before have obtained. 

Some critic quite small, but with infinite gall, 

Arises and casts this stone at our wall : 

What of Rome? What of Greece? What of Babylon great? 
Assyria, Egypt, and others whose fate 
Lies buried unknown in ages long past. 
Whence history's voice no echo has cast 
A-down the long eons of time intervening 
To tell of their greatness, their hopes, and their 
dreaming?" 

But surely, we say, these cannot compare 

With an age that gives man the mastery of the air. 

We use flying wings, like the birds when they soar ; 

We delve in the sea 'neath the storm's angry roar ; 

And safely we travel the ocean depths through ; 

We speak leagues through air, and many things do 

Which the "heathen" in all ages past, — ignorant clods, — 

Would have thought could only be done by the gods. 

"It ever was thus," our critic replies, 

"Each age in its boasting all others decries. 

And, candidly speaking, 'tis my firm belief 

Your boasting's as vain as a wild savage chief. 

»■ 
You know not. nor wisdom of sage has not even guessed 
The wonders that ages long buried possessed, 
For Civilization, so called in this world, 
Quite often from height to great depth has been hurled. — 
The higher the mount, the greater the fall, — 
Tiitil savage force has blotted out all 
Signs which a long distant future might read, 
And perchanco. though not likely, their lessons might heed. 




.% 








PagrTHirty-one 



Some JJreams ot a '^aiitornia roet 



//I 



It is likely, we kuow uot, yet well it may be 

The past has had lessons far greater than we. 

Of what man may do by labor untiring, 

In conquering nature and wisdom aspiring, 

But ever anon the image he built 

Had sandy foundation and toppled iind split 

All the beauty and wisdom and high expectation 

Back to earth in the crash of its rending foundation. 

Well, critic, it may be you speak but the truth 
Of ages that have been, but ours now is proof 
'Gainst earthquake, and tempest, and fiery disaster 
That wrecked all the others, our building came after. 
And surely we builded more wisely than they, 
Our structure is great, it cannot give way. 

■'I hope you are right," the critic replied, 
"But like all the others, its strength will be tried, 
And fierce winds assail, its strength sorely testing. 
It trembles in gales ever stronger investing. 
If it falls, the light of the world may again 
Turn to darkness as great as that which has lain 
Through uncounted ages, whence never a star 
Gives hint of man's life to men that now are." 

"Wise critic enough, your words are not mincing. 

In argument sound, in logic convincing. 

The world in sjreat cycles forever must go. 

And. like tides of the sea, with their ebb and flow. 

It mounts in one age to the portals of heaven. 

Then descends to the depth from which it has striven. 

"But why," you may ask, "this long dissertation?" 
•'What moral is here, and what application?" 
Xo moral, my freinds. 'tis just simple truth. 
And truth is unmoral, and often, forsooth. 
Unpleasant as well for our contemplation, — 
More bitter than sweet in its explanation. 
But if moral you'll have, smoke this in your pipe, 
Tis fragrant and old and perfectly ripe : 
Pride of self, pride of wealth. 
Pride of p(wer and of pelf; 
Dividing nifinkind into nations and classes; 
Loftily speaking of "rulers" and "masses" ; 
These are the straw and the sand in the wall 
That havo brought every nation and age to its fall. 
But poof ! these things have been — always will be — 
,, The mora! is perfectly u.'^eless. v^'-'^tie-- 
i^ylt's just plain fact, — the wise man was right, — 



M'. 




'rhere's nothing that's new. so friends all. good-night. 




m 

I 











/'a^ Thirty-two 



J'c:;'^"V>, Ll^; 







.7?iSii^ 





Some Dreams of a California Poe? 



;^^Si^"^^:^ft^•^ 






^'fB 



THE LAST DAY 

If today were the last on earth for me, 

I would not criuge and cry and pray, 

Like a wounded creature brought to bay, 

Nor don white robes to fly away, 

If today were the last on earth for me. 

If today were the last on earth for me, 

I'd lift my heart in joyful prayer 

To the Maker and Ruler of earth and air, 

And I'd thank Him for joys that are mine to share, 

If today were the last on earth for me. 

If today were the last on earth for me, 

I'd like to help right a wrong, 

To dry a tear, and start a song. 

And live for others the whole day long. 

If today were the last on earth for me. 

If today were the last on earth for me. 

And that day were nearing the setting sun, 

I'd like for Christ to say, "Well done, 

I've a larger task for you. my son," 

If today were the last on earth for me. 



THERE SHALL BE PEACE 

The heavens are dark with the portent of ill. 
The earth seems to quake and cannot be still : 
Like rumble of thunder, the cannon's deep roar. 
Like flashings of lightning the rending shells soar ; 
Tho shrieks of the dying, the blood-spattered earth. 
The moan of the widow, the child without mirth, — 
Are these the liest fruits that the ages can bear? 
Are these Civilization? are these answered prayer? 
Is all the slow prf)gress of man through the years. 
All things that are Godlike, all hoping that cheers, — 
Are these all to vanish 'neath war's awful pall? 
Will hell's desolation thus swallow up all? 
We cannot conceive that thus it will be; 
We believe that God lives and His glory we'll see; 
We believe the shed blood of the Christ will avail 
For the sins of mankind, though all else should fail ; 
We believe that from out this tumult and strife 
A nobler manhood will spring into life. 
It requires fierce heat to refine the world's gold, 
'Tis only pure metal remains in God's mould. " 

When the dross of deceit and selfish desire 
Are purged from mankind in God's testing fire. 
ijv^ peace that is lasting and sweet may be ours, 
"^'"'"fe-'Beace. clean and white as the lily's sweet flowers. 




ri.-7% 



T 



Wlmre no man, nor cult, nor nation claims call, 

''.in (s'uh sha;ll ■'acknowledge "lis 'God over all." ^ 






11^; 



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^Pag^e Tkt^y-three ' '■ 



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borne ureams or a 



California Poet 




DEMOCRACY 

Strike off the shackles! Free the shives! 

Avaunt with lords and kings, 
Who claim from God the heritage 

That from the people springs. 

"The war is on I Democracy !" 

Cry out the world oppressed. 
•'We'll fight for right with all our might 

Till victory crown our quest." 

Unsheath the sword ! Put helmet on I 

Let speak the mighty gun! 
For freedom's cause is lost to all 

Unless the battle's won. 

No compromise! No half won prize 

Will pay for blood that's spilled, 
But liberty for all the world 

Must come ere war is stilled. 

Earth's kingdoms shake! Their proud kings quake" 

And call for help in vain. J 

Their scepters fall, and over all "- 
Democracy shall reign. 

Fight on, ye brave, nor fear the knave 

Who would your might withstand ! 
Fight on, till ocean's deep shall lave , 

On every shore Free Land ! 

Fight on. till lords of wealth shall bow 

Before your trenchant steel, 
And little children shall not starve. 

Crushed 'neath a tyrant's heel. 

Till man shall see in fellow-man 

A brother and a friend, 
And seek to aid and not destroy, — 

To love and not offend. 

Till hands .shall stretch 'cross every sea **^ 

And clasp from land to land, 
And envy, hate and jealousy 

No longer shall command. 

Then peace shall reign, and o'er the world ^__- 

One banner we shall see, ^ '' 

Whose symbol shall forever wave, — ' ' 
ill's "Tis "World Democracv." 



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\ Some Dreams of a California Poef 







SUNSET THOUGHTS 



I saw the sun in rose-red splendor like a ball of molten ^^ -, 
gold, 

Sink beneath the western ocean, all its fabled wealth 
untold. 

I saw the after-glow, with beauty, light the somber west- 
ern sky 

With such colors none ere painted, though a few essay 
to try. 

Slowly then the gray mists darkened, — crimson, gold, and 

purple hue ^-^C^ 

Lost their radiance, and the darkness quickly hid them all ''"' 

from view. 
So our golden hopes and longings oft are lost ere we 

surmise ; 
Let us grasp them, make them ours, ere they sink, no 

more to rise. 




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BUENA VISTA 




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East by north from Riverside a rugged hill uprears, — 

An arm thrown out from higher range that farther east 
appears. 

I oft have climbed this rock-strewn hill, and from its 
modest height 

Have viewed the valley, stretching far, — a most entranc- 
ing sight. 

Flanking close about the base, and reaching out for miles, 

The orange orchard's green and gold reflect kind nature's 
smiles. 

Northward, near a mile, is seen a busy little mart, 

Where railroad ti'ains are puffing round, impatient for a 
start. 

This is the town of Highgrove, where the golden fruit is 
packed, 

Which makes the "Gold at rainbow's end" a satisfying 
fact. 

Still farther north the orange groves give place to other 
crops. 

Until a sharp decline is reached, where vegetation stops. 

Here, winding like a silver thread, through softly lumi- 
nous sand, 
-The Santa Ana river runs, — the life of all the land. 
i%gh in the mountains, where the snow lies in perennial 
' 'shi'ouds. 




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Page Thirty -five 



:5ome ureams oi a 



Calif 



ornia 



Poet 




-4: 

This never-failing water-course has birth amongst the 

clouds. 
Its liquid life is carried far, across the fertile plains, 
And brings delight to thirsty lands, more sure than God's 

own rains. 
And where, in times agone, there stretched an arid tree- ^^f; 

less waste, 
The deep-hued green of fruit-filled trees has now this loss 

replaced. 
Still further north, beyond the stream, the town of Col- ,-, 

ton lies. \i.^^ - 

And farther still, a mountain range towers upward to..^^ 

the skies. ^ 

Upon the face of this great range God has a wonder lain,— 
An Arrow Head, of monstrous size, points downward to 

the plain. 
Full many legends cluster round this mammoth pointing 

dart. ^'^-^ 

And near its base, in smoking caves, hot springs of water_^^, ■'^ 

start. ""'Sp^- 

San Bernardino City lies quite near this awesome place, *^'' 
And prospers much, no doubt, from fame we to this 

source can trace. 
Now. turning eyes toward the v»^est, a similar view obtains, 
With oranse orchards, river plain, and distant mountain ^ , ,. 

chains. '•:^^:'f; 

The Santa Ana. sweeping round in majestic curve, '^"1^^ 

Is hidden by Mount Rubidoux. where Easter votaries '- 1' 

serve. 
Again I turn my eyes, this time to south by west, — 
A m<n'e entrancing view now greets than e'en before has 

blest. ^ ;, ;, ^ 

Here Riverside, the beautiful, in tree-enshrouded haze, 
Lifts spire of church and temple rare to my enraptured 

gaze. 
This little city, noted far for beauty, art and song, 
Seems, to the homesick heart, a place desired and sought - 

for long. 
If I should tell but half the things which fragrant men^ 

ories hold 
Of this dear place, whose charm and worth are greater 

far than gold. 
You'd scarce believe, and so to prove that I am speaking 

true. r - 

Come visit her and feel her charm, she opes her arms . . 
.^,you. 

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Some Dreams of a California Poet 

UNITED WE STAND 

The east and the west, 
The north and the south, 

Marched forth at the word of command ; 
At the call of the right 
They arose in their might 

To rescue the poor of the land. 
The east and the west, 
The north and the south, 

With banners and jesting and song; 
The khaki-clad youth 
In the cause of the truth, 

Sprang fox'ward five million strong, 

The seas were bridged o'er, 
From shore unto shore. 

With transports of men and supplies; 
The skies were quite filled 
With air-men much skilled, 

And the foe looked on in surprise. 
The boast of the Hun 
That, when all was done 

America surely must pay, 
Has returned on his head. 
As his legions have fled 

From the men who fight as they pray. 
All Europe's oppressed 
These brave men have blessed 

With blessings most fervent and true. 
And the flag most admired 
Is the flag freemen sired. 

The glorious Red, White and Blue, 
The war lords of might 
Have left their fierce blight 

On the fairest and best of the earth, 
But their ravage has ceased. 
And their victims released. 

World Freedom has now had its birth. 

The east and the west, 
The north and the south. 

Will soon come marching back home. 
We'll make the air ring 
As we shout and we sing. 

And we'll pray they need nevermore roam. 
With soft falling tears 
We'll remember the biers 

Of those who are sleeping in France, 
And those, just as brave. 
Who sleep neath the wave. 

Where the wild ocean water-sprites dance. 



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A SAl) EXPERIENCE 

A sickness o'ertook me, 
A trembliug shook me, 

I thought 1 was going to die. 
I sent for a doctor, — 
A bland "Osteoper," 

Who lived in the block near by. 

He looked o'er my "figger" 

With no lack of vigor 

And solemnly said unto me, — 

"One rib, it is broken, 

Your vertebrae's croakin'. 

One hip is not like it should be." 

He forthwith proceeded, — 

He hammered and kneaded 

Till all that he said came true. 

I sure was a picture, 

I said, "'Doc, I ditch yer," 

You've beat till I'm all black and blue." 

I then called another, 

A Homeopath brother, 

Who sagely looked at my tongue. 

He said. "That fool doctor, — 

That brute of a knocker, 

Should have his vertibrae sprung." 

"You've got a bad liver, 

Your heart's like a 'flivver,' 

And misses a beat now and then, 

I'll give you some physic, 

And some 'diagatizic,' 

And soon you'll be all right once again. 

I grew sicker and sicker, 

I called for some "licker," 

But nary a drop could be found. 

I (lumped all the physic 

And durned "diagatizic," 

And now I am up and around. 



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§v Some Dreams of a California FV)e 

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THE KAISERLESS KAISER 

"A kaiserless kaiser and six little sons 

Desire a good home," so the ad runs. 

"In some quiet spot and salubrious clime, , ., 

Where they're privileged to stay for some little time." '.; 

The kaiserless kaiser and six little sons 
Have been rudely treated, and even called "Huns" ! 
Their nerves are quite shattered by what they'e endured. 
They seek now a place where their ills may be cured. 

If you know of some place where the rent is not large. 
And the landlord is gracious, and willing to "charge," 
Just drop us a line, all on the Q. T., 
And a kaiserless kaiser soon you may see. 

The kaiserless kaiser must have a good cook. 

But no Chinee will do, put that in your book ; 

Celestial cooks can make mighty fine mince. 

But they always call Frederick the "Royal Clown Plince." 

And that, for some reason, makes Frederick mad. 

Though all must agree the title's not bad, 

?''0&^^_ When the kaiserless kaiser was kaiser for sure, 

He never e'en dreamed what he must now endure; 

He had a great scheme for the good (?) of mankind. 

But the whole world was rude, and its people unkind. 

Instead of accepting his "kultur" and sons 
To rule all the earth, they called them the "Huns," 
And told them quite plainly where to "head in," 
■Which the kaiser hns done with much of chagrin. 

And now his own people refuse to "kow-tow," 

And he's out of a job, he scarce can tell how. 

So the kaiserless kaiser is seeking a home 

For himself and six sons, where they need no more i*oam. 

Responses are coming on most every mail 
A few I will give and shorten my tale. 
France has suggested a charming Bastile, 
While Belgium, more rude, would their death warranty 'ui, 
seal. 

England, determined not to be outdone, '^ 

Suggests a long stay in the Tower of London ; " 

wiiile Italy, Greece, and our own "Uncle Sam," 

Each have suggestions which begin with a d 

ow my own thought I'm determined to tell — 

•■ve the whole bunch should be sent straight toh — \. 





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Page Thirty-nme 



oome jLyicdiiis ui a ^-dhrornia roci 



BIRD PHILOSOPHY 

Thrilling and warbling and singing in glee, 

The Robin is perched in the old apple tree. 

The leaves are not started, the earth is still bare, 

And a sharp twinge of frost is still felt in the air. 

But careless and free and happy is he, 

With no thought of tomorrow or what is to be, 

Just happy, just happy, just happy is he. 

My life has been burdened with sorrow and care, 
I've borrowed much trouble, I've learned to despair, 
O why should this be with you and with me. 
When Robin's so happy and from all care is free? 
His God is my God, it surely must be, 
If He cares for the Robin He cares, too, for me, 
O Robin, I would be happy like thee! 

O Robin, dear Robin, the cold night may come. 

And chill you and freeze you quite stark and quite numb, 

But never a fear has that brave heart of thine. 

yo, never a worry should ever be mine. 

In this we'll agree, just you and just me, 

We'll keep on a-singing as gay as can be. 

Regardless of what tomorrow may see. 






IN LOVING REMEMBRANCE OF "GRANDPA" ALLEN, 

OF HIGHGROVE, CALIFORNIA 

When "Grandpa" Allen passed away 
The little children ceased their play, 
And mourned with elders on that day. 
When "Grandpa" Allen passed away. 

When Comrade Allen mustered out 
The "Old Boys" marched the solemn route. 
In love they strewed their flowers about. 
When "Comrade" Allen mustered out. 

When "Father" Allen went to sleep, 

His children o'er his grave did weep, ' 

And children's children memories keep, 

When "Father" Allen went to sleep. 

May this be said of you and me 
When comes the time to cross death's sea, — 
Thy heart was kind, v^e all loved thee," — 
May this be said of you and me. 



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Page Forty 






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\ Some Dreams of a California Poe 

*- *>> 1-;; ;^t^4j?- . 65 ijo-. * ■ ■ -.■'■'•"*> 
THE GARDEN OF LIFE 

'Tis a wonderful garden, the garden of life, 

Though many find it so bare. 
The scent of the flowers and the lifegiving showers 

Is ever abroad in the air. 

There are beautiful flowers in the garden of life, 

And they nestle secure from view 
Of the jostling throng that hastens along. 

With no object except to get through. 

If we will seach in the garden of life 

Away from the madd'ning rush, 
We will find these flowers in beautiful bowers 

Where the feet of the throng cannot crush. 

There are Lillies of Hope in the garden of life. 

And Roses of Love, sweet and pure. 
There are Pansies of Joy no power can alloy, 

And Violets of Faith, strong and sure. 

There are rough, hilly paths in the garden of life. 

But surely we ought not to complain. 
The harder the climb, the view more sublime. 

When the summit at last we attain. 




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THE MEANEST MAN 

"I'll buy no bonds," he said to himself, ^ 

"While others buy. I'll hoard all my wealth. 

If I become rich, I must stifle my heart, 

That rule I'll make plain from the very first start." 

"There's neighbor Tom Jones, — three boys in the war, — 
He'd mortgage his soul if he thought it called for, 
To back up those boys till the war is all through; 
I've a bright idea what I shall do. 

"I'll loan neighbor Jones a nice little sum 

On his house and his lot. the interest will come 

To double the interest his bonds will bring him, ■« 

The chance of his paying will prove very slim. 

"The times are right good for chances like this, 

I'll keep wide awake, and not many miss. 

If the war should continue the next year or two, -• 

I'll have a nice income ere it is through." 

^ J^uch traitors deserve the same fate as the Hun, 
*^*ifeiey shoiild all be shown up to the light of the sun, 







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Pag-e F^t^one / ' , .j. i ^ '- 



Some Dreams or a ^^aiifornia Poet / 











REVTfiRi 

Another autumn leaf has loosed its hold 

And fluttered solftly down. 
The years speed by in swift review, 

And gray my temple's crown. 
It seems but yesterday to me 

When life was young and gay, 
And eons long the time was then 

Until my next birthday. 

The grade was ever upward then, 

I journeyed with a song, 
The sun shone bright, the birds were gay, 

And life seemed very long. 
The morning air was cool and clear 

And dew was on the grass. 
The way was steep, but strength of limb 

Made tiring quickly pass. 

And as I climbed the rugged steep, 

The glorious view enhanced, 
And ever wider, fairer fields. 

My eager eyes entranced. 
Ambition stirred with its touch, 

And hope was very strong. 
The love of home, and friends, and land, 

Fast urged my steps along. 

But quickly, ah, too quickly came, 

The summit of the hill, 
And sweeping up from western seas 

The wind felt dank and chill. 
A-down the slope I travel now, 

And swifter grov,s my pace, 
A year is but a span that ends 

Ere it has found a place. 

I soon shall reach the western sea, 

Where rays of setting sun 
Send golden beams of softened light 

Where ends my earthly run. 
Quite gladly will I then embark 
Upon the ocean's breast, 
And calmly lay me down to sleep, 

Secure, in perfect rest. 

Shall I awake in other land 

Beyond the sunlit sea? 
I cannot doubt, the Christ has proved 

That such shall truly be. 
So humbly, and with happy heart, 
% I wait the crossing time, 
'Kiis world is good, but over there 

'Twill surely be sublime. 




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Page Forty-two (S°/J "^ " ^''j?0 t / % 

Some Dreams of a California Poet 

HATS OrF TO THE OLD VETS 

^ I saw them march through the thronging street, 

<J Old and bent and with halting feet, 

Wearing the blue and wearing the gray, 

The same as they wore on that fierce, dark day 

When they fought each other in deadly fray. 



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Today they march in brotherly ranks, 

And the blue and the gray alike give thanks 

That the flag which flies above the two 

Is the flag of the union— Red. White, and Blue, 

And to its allegiance they all are true. 

The flowers they carry with them today 
Will deck alike the blue and gray, 
And memory's cup will overflow 
As they talk of the war of long ago. 
And how Comrade B did thus and so. 

Too soon the ranks of this little band 

Will march no more in this fair, free land. 

But their works have left a priceless sum, 

A heritage true for ages to come, 

That will speak for them though their lips be dumb. 

Their children's children are now in the ranks. 

Under the flag for which they give thanks. 

Over their legions its soft folds lie 

As they march to answer humanity's cry. 

And 'neath its folds they will do or die. ^^. 

Ravished Belgium, and bleeding France; 
Sturdy England, with broken lance; 
Fighting with backs against the wall 
Where freedom's cause seems about to fall, 
Take hope when they hear America's call. 

In the strength of youth, to heritage true, 

United and strong, as none ever knew, 

They pour forth their legions and treasures of gold, 

In unselfish devotion we're glad to behold, 

And the Hun shall not gather the spoils to his fold. 

And nations now bless these old veterans true, 

Who fought the great fight 'neath the Red, White and Blue. 

That preserved this great nation, with strength now to 

fight 
In the cause of the free against the great blight 
Of a power that enslaves by a fierce, cruel might. 

Hats off to the "Old Vets" now marching past, 

And give them a cheer, it may be the last, 

And scatter SM'eet flowers on the graves of their dead, 

Let honor and peace their bright pinons spread 

O'er the heads of these heroes who for us have bled. 






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OQIliG l_^ICdIUb Ul ci v-a 



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AN EASTER SHOWER 

Softly now the rain is falling, 
Like the tread of baby feet, 

Gently now its voice is calling 
To the grass and flowers asleep,— 

"Wake ye quickly from your slumbers ! 

Raise your drooping heads once more! 
Voice of Spring is sweetly wooing. 

Notes of birds and bees implore." 

Glad and joyous is the spring-time, 
All the earth with beauty rife. 

Emblem of the truth eternal, — 
Death but leads to larger life. 




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SPRING AGAIN 

I hear the crickets chirping, 
I note the pea-fowl preen, 
I see the old earth covered 
With dress of emerald sheen. 
The robin warbles sweetly. 
The wren is building nest, 
And over all the sunshine 
In golden warmth is pressed. 

The poppies gold fjhe hillside, 

The bees are murmuring low. 

The peach and almond oi"cbards 

In beauteous fullness blow. 

The whole wide world in gladness 

Its festal offerings bring 

To greet God's new creation, — 

The miracle of Spring. 




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THE HEROES OF CARRIZAL 

Our hearts have thrilled with the stories told 

Of the charge of the Light Brigade, 
Of Sheridan's ride, and Custer's band, 

And the valor they displayed; 
But today we talk with bated breath 

Of the Mexican Chaparral, 
And honor the men whose bones lie there, — 

The heroes of Carrizal. 

For these men fought as brave men fight, 

They died as brave men die, 
Beneath the sun in a torrid clime 

Their bones now bleaching lie. 
Some were white, and some were black, 

But all were white of soul, 
And their names are writ in warm, red blood 

On our nation's honor roll. 



Decoyed and trapped by a treacherous foe. 

In a so-called friendly land, 
They fought 'gainst odds a hundred to one, 

This gallant little band. 
And many a foeman bit the dust, 

And many a gun was stilled, 
And the battle they fought on that fateful day 

The natitm's heart has thrilled. 

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And the flag they bathed in mart^^s blood,— 

The grand Red, White and Blue, 
Shall wave in triumph o'er the land 

They died to make anew, 
And in its wake shall blessings flow, 

And peace and plenty reign 
Where war. and hate, and famine guant, 

Have many thousands slain. . 

O give me a grave with these soldiers true, f^e 
With bones in the burning .^nn. ^ 

Rather than tomb with a marble front 
And no service to mankind done! -JS 

All honor then to those who lie 
Beneath the Chaparral, 

On Mexico's soil for freedoms cause,— 

"• The heroes of Carrizal. 




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AN EASTER PRAYER 

Our risen Lord, this Easter moru, 
We lift our prayers to thee. 
From sins and sorrows we have borne. 
We ask thee to be free 

O grant us now thy mercy Lord, 
Of worth, we've none to claim, 
For blessings from thy giving haml. 
Or honor in thy name. 

But mercy, gracious Lord, is thine, 
And thou dost freely give 
To thirsty lips the draught of life. 
And drinking thus, we live. 

O God, we've wandered far from thee I 

The earth is racked with pain\ 

Our every breath is misery 

And hate hath thousands slain 

O mighty God ! Our risen Lord ! 
Let now thy trumpet sound. 
Make all the woi-ld of one accord. 
And love and truth propound. 

Let Kaiser, Emperor and Czar, 
And Presidents and Kings, 
All hear thy mandate from afar, 
As loud its music rings. 

"Peace troubled ones, why do ye slay? 
Why hate, and swear, and curse? 
The Lord arose upon this day, 
Let doubts and fears disperse. 

"Forget ambition's proud acclaim. 
Forget your sins and woes. 
Forget all else save Christ's dear name. 
And love both friends and foes. 

O Christ, thy love is all we need. 
To make the whole world bright. 
O make of it the fruitful seed. 
That blossoms into light 



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Some Dreams of a California Poet 



THE MYSTERY LAND 

I go on a journey mother, 

Not far it is I know, 
For all of us live on the border land 

Of the country where I go. 
But a strange thing 'bout this country, 

Where so many we knew have passed — 
There are none return to tell us 

Of the home they've reached at last 

It must be a beautiful country, 

And a place divinely blest, 
Where the spirit, free from the aching clay. 

Can revel in painless rest. 
Where no limits of space confine us 

And the universe is our home. 
We may visit the spheres of the limitless skies. 

Where'er our thoughts may roam. 

But I think that oft, dear mother. 

When I've passed to that mystic land, 
I'll linger near to this sad old earth 

And lend you a comforting hand 
And if in your dreams, dear mother. 

You feel a caressing touch 
On your tired bi-ow and care-worn cheek, 

'Twill be one who loves you much. 

He will gladly lighten your burden 

If he can have power so to do, 
And he'll welcome you, oh, so gladly. 

When your sorrowing time is through. 
Then we'll soar through endless ages, 

In realms of perfect bliss. 
And we'll learn up there the meaning 

Of the trials we have in this. 







jome ureanis ol a ^aiilornia foei 



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OUR COUNTRY'S FLAG 

I love my country's flag, — 

The crimson bars of it 

Are heart's blood spilt for it. 

The clean pure white of it 

Is our stainless pride in it. 

The azure blue of it 

Is the steadfast strength of it. 

The clustered stars of it 

Are statehood's faith in it. 





God bless our nation's flag! 
Let no man dare to sneer at it, 
Let no man mar the hue of it, 
Let no man place more red in it, 
Nor none increase the white of it. 
Forever let the folds of it 
Float o'er a nation worthy it, 
And may our children's love for it 
Be greater than our own. 



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